


Red Robin: Whitleblower

by Ancri



Category: Batman (Comics), Outlast (Video Games), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, Mutilation, Whitleblower, poor Tim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 22:50:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11367255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ancri/pseuds/Ancri
Summary: Tim is undercover as a Software-Consultant named Waylon Park by Murcoff Psychiatric Systems. After getting caught sending a report to Batman, he is threaten like a patient. An inmate revolt helps him break free, but he is still locked in this facility with these psychos that are trying to kill him. Plus a shadow-monster-thing named Walrider that massacred everyone. Hopefully Batman got his SOS.You don`t have to know Outlast or the DLC to understand this story, but it would help.





	Red Robin: Whitleblower

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own any of these characters or most of the plot. I just put another person in the situation, because my brain told me so.

Everything was fizzy when Tim finally opened his eyes. His head hurt but the memories came slowly back. He was strapped to some iron chair, which wouldn’t be a problem if he had his gloves and it took him a few seconds to remember why he hadn’t. He wasn’t Red Robin right now, he wasn’t even Timothy Drake. He was Waylon Park. In front of him were two scientists who checked his bounding.  
“Open your eyes. You have to wake up” one of them said and slapped him.  
“What’s the problem? Somebody hit you?” he joked and yeah, Tim hated this guy, but he remained silent.  
“Here, let me help you” the man offered and licked over Tim’s face. His breathe smelled like shit and Tim had to suppress the urge to vomit. This was disgusting, but to be honest, he had been in worse situations, nothing could compare to the Joker.  
“Andrew, do you get this Alarms?” a person outside of Tim’s field of vision asked and the disgusting pig in front of Tim, obvious Andrew, turned to look at the new person: “I’m busy here”  
“It sounds like we’re in trouble…” the voice said something more, but the TV in front of Tim started to play some image sequences and he just couldn’t turn his attention away from it. The Video doubled his headache and the Alarm in the background didn’t help to ease it. His brain felt like static. Everything started to go fizzy again.

Two hours earlier

 

What the fuck was he even doing here? This place was nuts, he just hadn’t enough proofs for it, so Batman said he had to stay a little longer. Tim was undercover as a Software-Consultant by Murcoff Psychiatric Systems for two weeks now and he had already enough. First he thought it couldn’t be worse than Arkham, well, he was wrong. What these so called scientists did to this people was terrible, something about dream therapy that got to deep. It itched in Tim’s finger to burn the whole facility to aches. Just in time he could finish his report to Batman and hit send, when one of the guards that worked for Murcoff entered his office, it wasn’t really an office, more a store room, and demanded his help in the main lab. Sadly Tim had no clue what this machine he helped program was for, only that it had something to do with dreams. The system was to secure for him to hack it from his laptop or for Oracle to do so from the Clock Tower, not that he thought that was possible before now, and every time he tried to gain access to one of the main computers he nearly got couched. A little voice in his head, which sound disturbingly like Damien, whispered that Dick could do it better.  
Tim walked through the sterile halls of the facility, trying to listen to the conversation of two scientists, but a demanding voice ordered his presence in the lab immediately via speakers and he didn’t want to gain suspicious.  
“Hurry up, they are waiting for you” the guard in front of the door grumbled. Tim just smiled, it’s not like he was goofing around or something. Behind the door laid an iron room. Analyst, psychologists and others, who mostly ignoring him, filed it. One man informed him that he was needed at the front terminal so Tim crossed the lab, trying not to look like he was listening to any conversations. The light flickered while he sat down in front of the computer to repair whatever was broken this time.  
“Park. Finally. Where have you been” the man next to Tim asked annoyed and started to explain Tim his job. Apparently they lost visual from inside the machine. Tim was thankful for everything that went wrong for those guys. He lived to help people and here he was, harming humans just to keep his cover, he really hated it. Suddenly two guards brought in some poor bastard. He was screaming and struggling and Tim had to suppress the hero in him, or he would try to safe him, which was probably the dumbest thing he could do in this situation, outnumbered and out powered. No one else in this room seemed to have a problem with this. After a small fight between the patient and the guards the man broke free and raced to the control room Tim was in. He throw himself at the glass barrier between them and started to bag.  
“Pleas don’t do this. Don’t let them do this to me” he plead and Tim had the feeling it was directed at him. He stood up and walked a few steps back, stunted by his inability to help while the man was dragged away.  
“Calm yourself” a guard demanded but the scientist he talked earlier to got between them and ordered Tim to continue his work. On the computer appeared a live screen from inside the machine. Patient Eddy Gluskin, the man that had just plead Tim for help, was seen with two giant tubes in his mouth, one in his nose and more so in his chest. The man was making gagging noises and was understandably in panic. Just before they turned the machine on so Time could find out more the scientist through him out. Tim clenched his fists; he seriously needed to punch something, or someone.  
Back in his office he found someone sitting on his table, his laptop on and his report to Bruce open. He could kick his own ass for not deleting it immediately, probably another thing Dick would have done better. At least he had used codenames.  
“Sharing stories, do you?” Mr. Blaire, his employer, asked calm. Tim turned around just to see three guards entering the room, one pointing a gun at him.  
“On the floor. Down. Hands were I can see them” the guard in front commanded and pushed Tim roughly to the ground. After that the man lifted him up and smashed him against the wall. Tim’s shoulder was burning, but he couldn’t fight back, couldn’t let them know what he was capable of, or he runs the risk that they connect him to the Bats. Mr. Blaire stepped in front of Time and crashed his Laptop with his feet.  
“Waylon Park. A clever man, highly recommended and somehow dump enough to think that we wouldn’t find out he was contacting someone on the outside. So stupid, someone could think he’s crazy. I’m afraid we have to have you committed. Mr. Park, do you willingly let as commit you in this facility?” Mr. Blaire asked  
“Hell no” Tim answered but Mr. Blaire just turned to one of the guard.  
“Did you hear that” he asked with a sinister smile.  
“He said yes, Sir” the guard confirmed with a node of his head. Tim’s eyes widen in shock, this was a disaster.  
“Great, oh, and did you just heard Mr. Parker volunteering for the morpho-genetic-engine-program?” Mr. Blaire continued and again the guard nodded. Oh no, oh fucking no. He had a bad feeling about this mission from the beginning. He should have said fuck you to Bruce and join Red Hood or something equally overdramatic. But you don’t say no to Bruce Wayne.  
“So brave, Waylon. We really appreciate your sacrifice. Maybe you could administer Mr. Park here a light anesthetic” Mr. Blaire, the bastard, suggested.  
“Gladly” the guard answered and stepped for to hit Tim’s head against the wall. His feet connected with Tim’s stomach and all he could do was to send a SOS signal to the Batcave, before another hit to the head brought darkness to his mind. 

Now

Tim wasn’t sure how this was possible, but the Video seemed to physically harm him. He was in pain and too confused to do something about it, to captured by the pictures to concentrate on escaping, when suddenly the TV went white and the iron cuffs, that were holding his arms, opened. He still had this wired images in front of his eyes, but he blinked them away. He looked around; next to him were others in the same situation, also suddenly free. While standing up Tim lost his balance and hit the floor. His body was sore and his head ached, but he is a Bat, he is Red Robin, leader of the Teen Titans, this was not going to stop him.  
While standing up, his view fall on the cell on his right, were a man tried to escape. Out of nowhere some kind of shadow appeared. It griped the guy and smashed him against the wall, terrible screams were audible and then the lights went out. What the hell was that? Tim’s eyes were wide in shock. That was something he hadn’t seen in Gotham before and he had thought he had seen everything, because, well, it’s Gotham. He seriously needed to leave this hell house. Without weapons, information and a plan he wasn’t going to survive this so escaping and coming back with reinforcement was his only opinion. Tim spotted a camera in a corner next to the door. `If Bruce wants his proofs he was going to get them´ Tim thought and a small part of him was angry at himself because his priorities seemed to be first proofing himself to Bruce and second surviving, but who was he kidding, that’s how it’s always going to be. The wired pictures appeared again in front of his eyes, but he ignored them. Looking thought the night vision of the camera Tim could see the other cells again. Both were splashed in blood. That would at least explain the smell, a smell that sadly remind him of Gotham, just the fumes and the rain were missing. He was about to smash something against the looked door made of acrylic glass when a patient entered the corridor.  
“You think you’re safe in there? Flower. Beautiful Flower. I’m going to open you and show you. You wait just there” the man muttered with a broken voice and a lump was forming in Tim’s throat. He would prefer not to be opened by this guy, thank you very much. The moment the stranger opened his cell from a control panel on the end of the corridor Tim was gone. He didn’t really felt like fighting so running was his choice of action. Jason would probably laugh at him and Damien would call him a coward, but fuck those two, he preferred to life. He followed a long corridor, still hearing the maniac behind him. He saw the murderous shadow again and was already cursing his luck, but it ignored him. He run through the next unlocked door and landed in rooms full of inmates desecrating the body of a psychiatrist. The man was already dead; Tim came too late to save him. He wasn’t the first person Tim couldn’t save and he had the terrible feeling he wasn’t the last one.  
“Take a blade; get some red on your hands. It feels great. If you bottle this up to long, you may do something you’ll regret. Or are you to good for us? Do you think you are something special? There are no observers here. No get the fuck out of here, before I change my mind” the man in front of the body jelled at Tim, who stood stiff next to the door. His voice was drowning in craziness. Tim’s view wandered between the inmates and he calculated his chances if it would get to a fight. They weren’t trained like him, but they were many and had knifes, plus they were crazy which sometimes works as kind of a strange booster, seeing the Joker. He would prefer to not fight them, but he couldn’t go back to the shadow-monster-thing and staying right here wasn’t an option either. He had to cross the room. Slowly, trying to look as harmless as possible, which wasn’t really the problem, everyone underestimated him, even his own family, he moved in the direction of the door. On the other side of the door he let out a breath he hadn’t realize he was holding. He was standing in a rotten corridor. The word surgery was written on a wooden sign next to the room he just left. The paint was scrolling from the walls and it smelled like piss. Old hospital beds filed the hall and the light wasn’t working. It was the exact opposite to the clean and modern part of the facility Tim had been. The alarm was still audible and in a far corner sat a mutilated patient, his head in his hands. Tim slowly draw closer to the man.  
“You’re alright?” he asked with a warm voice, he couldn’t just stop helping people, it was in his nature. But instead of talking to Tim the man jumped up and attacked him. Out of reflex Tim dodged his fist and smashed his head against the wall behind him. The inmate sank to the floor and laid there motionless. So much for helping.  
On the end of the hall he left through another door and found himself in darkness. Again using the night vision on the camera he navigated through it. He found that the room was already occupied. An inmate was kicking another, who just lied on the floor, making himself as small as possible.  
“Hey!” Tim jelled, but both man ignored him. One hit at the right position on the man’s neck later, he was unconscious with as little damage as possible. The patient on the floor was still motionless and ignored everything said to him, so Tim led him be.  
The next door was looked, but Tim wasn’t exactly sad about it, the sounds that came from the other side weren’t that welcoming. The problem was that he was sitting in a dead end, which is a bad if you’re desperately in need of an exit. Anxious he scanned the room in hop to find something he could use as a weapon, if not against the shadow-thing, than at least against the other psychos. Inmates running the Asylum was always horrible, even if they haven’t experimented on humans; Tim had lived through many Arkham revolts, just reasonable armed and with backup.  
Near the ceiling Tim spotted an air vent, and relief flowed through him. That was something he had done a million times before, mostly back in his time as Robin. He hated the fact that he was smaller than Dick and Jason, but at least he still fits in most vent systems. Easily he pushed himself from the ground and crawled over the metal ground of the vent. Through a grid Tim could hear two guards discus a way out of here. It seemed so that there was a radio somewhere, and if there’s a radio, than he could send a message to Oracle. He had already sent an emergency call, but the facility was large, it couldn’t help to let Batman know where exactly he was, even when it hurts his pride to need help. Surviving first, self-esteem second. He crawled till the end of the vent and jumped down. An inmate was sitting on the floor, but he stood up, when he saw Tim. His eyes were fixed on the young man and a shiver went down Tim’s spine. The room was pitch black so he had to look through the camera, which wouldn’t be a problem, if the only door out of the room wasn’t barricaded. He had to choose, continuing his scary staring contest with this guy, or moving the locker in front of the door, but being open for an attack. He choose the later.  
“Please don’t kill me, I don’t want to die in this place” Tim whispered under his bereave. To his luck, the man didn’t move an inch; to his not so much luck the battery of the camera was nearing his limits. If the camera dies, he was blind; he seriously needed to find some spear.  
Dead bodies and blood were spread in the next room. Some guards were not only killed, they were mutilated, extremities lying in pools of blood and the smell was gruesome. Tim covered his face with his hand and choked. Then his eyes located a battery, lonely lying in a puddle blood. It didn’t made any sense. How did someone manage to lose randomly a battery in a place like this, but hey, never look a gift horse in the mouth!  
His bare foot hit something that was hardly recognized as human anymore and he was gagging again. He wished he still had his normal closing, but he was dressed the same way the patient were.  
After a short walk he entered a small control room for an air lock. On the other side of the glass was a psychiatrist banging to get his attention. He was sealed in the air lock and was in need of help.  
“I`m a doctor. I need to get home to my…” he started but then he saw the way Tim was dressed.  
“You’re an inmate. I am one as well; I’ve stolen the cloth from a body. You have to open the door. Push the button. We could escape together” he continued. It wasn’t like Tim believed him, but he needed to go through this lock so he would have opened it anyway. He nodded and pushed the button, but behind one of the doors was already an actual inmate waiting. He entered and started to smash the head of the psychiatrist against the glass. As fast as possible Tim sprinted to the lock, but the man was already dead, his attacker gone. Tim sighted, he was losing track on how many people he had failed to save. Behind the lock were just more bodies, something was running amok here and Tim wasn’t so eager to meet this something alone and unarmed.  
The constant screaming and alarm was going on his nerves, as if his headache wasn’t already bad enough.  
Out of a radio he got another battery, which was a much better place than a pill of blood, and far les disturbing.  
Moving on Tim found the kitchen and maybe, just maybe he would have found something eatable here, he hadn’t eaten the whole day, but hunger wasn’t exactly the feeling he had right now. Actually he turned around and vomited. Organs lying around and bodies hanging from the ceiling. On a hotplate seethed a pot with red content that was 100% not tomato soup, if he interpreted the separated hand right. He just wanted to leave, but the cafeteria that followed wasn’t better. It was full of dead bodies and like the rest of the facility it smelled like rotten flesh, blood and death. In the center of the room, thankfully separated by an acrylic glass, stood a man with a circular saw cutting through the body of a guard. The head of the guy couldn’t be described as a head anymore, what remained of it was stuck in a microwave.  
“Don’t look at us. I love him” the butcher said to Tim while ripping the heard out of his victim and biting in it. Like a wild animal he started to rip pieces out of the body and spilling blood everywhere. If Tim’s stomach weren’t already empty, he would vomit again. He had seen a lot of crazy and disturbing stuff in his nineteen years of live, but this …  
“Look how you bleed for me. Wet. Ready. Red. Wanting” the cannibal whispered to his victim and Tim had enough. He turned around and left the butcher behind as far as he could, hoping to never see him again. God dame Bruce, were are you? He ran through a not so clean bathroom and fund himself in front of a door, looked via handcuffs. If his memory of the blueprints of this facility didn’t fail him, than that was exactly the door he had to go through to reach the tower with the radio station. Just his luck. He had to find something to pick the lock, or the key, but how likely was that going to happen. Tim opened the opposite door and entered another rotten corridor. Not two steps inside and he heard a circular saw and fuck, fuck, fuck. The damn butcher was here. Tim just wanted to turn around, but he had to open this bloody door. He couldn’t fight some monster with a saw, so he hid under a desk and the moment the butcher had passed his hiding spot Tim run. He could hear him jelling behind him, telling him that he can’t escape, but fuck you, escaping was exactly what he was doing right now. He left two rooms behind him, climbed through a hole in the wall and ended in an, thank god, empty hall, before he stopped again.  
He needed a few seconds, before he could breathe normal again and got nearly a heart attack when he turned around to find a guy with bands covering his eyes standing in his field of view. Tim was ready for an attack when the man started to speak  
“Are you my friend?” he asked without caring about personal space.  
“Ahm… yeah sure” Tim responded stepping a step away from this stranger, who just followed.  
“Do you have an itch?” the man continued.  
“What?” Tim asked confused, still trying and failing to get some space between him and the man.  
“I have an itch!” he explained.  
“Well, that’s tragic. I`m really sorry to hear that” Tim said carefully, he wasn’t sure if the wrong word would set him off. What would Dick do, he thought. Dick never set someone off, everyone loved Dick, he always found the right words.  
“Don’t be scared” the inmate revealed. That was easy to say, but Tim was sure he could take him down, the man couldn’t even the shit.  
Tim stopped his train of thoughts for a second. He was seriously spending too much time with Jason, Alfred wasn’t going to approve his language. But on the other hand, he felt like he had the right to say shit and fuck and damn in this situation, so screw you Alfred. Wait, no, don`t screw you Alfred, that was a little bit much and not fair towards the old butler.  
A loud bang interrupted his inner monolog. He decided to ignore the itch man and entered a really really dirty bathroom. At least here it didn’t stanched like death, well, here it stanched like piss. A dead guard laid at the opposite wall and for the first time in a while Time had actually luck. On the belt of the guard hang a key that looked like it could open the handcuffs. Tim had nearly forgotten what he was looking for, after the chase with the butcher, good thing Tim never forgets something. Looking at all the terrible things he had seen the last hour, bad thing that Tim never forgets something.  
Now Tim just had to find a way back without meeting the butcher again. Of course that was the moment he could hear the damn saw. Immediately he raced through the hall, then the next room and at last found himself in the hall he had last seen the butcher in. He had just to cross the corridor and open the door before he was found. Thankfully the key fits and Tim was in the next room of this labyrinth like facility. Thankfully? Not exactly. He had arrived in the crematorium. He didn’t even know that this hell house had one, but of course, they needed it to let the reminders of their experiments disappear. Quietly he crossed the room and when a bat is quiet, than he was 100% silent, but still this fucked up cannibal found him. He barged through a door and throw Tim at one of the push able bars of the crematorium. Adrenalin and years of training combined helped him holding the saw as far away from his body as possible. The butcher, realizing that his chosen victim wasn’t going to let him cut him in half’s, pushed the bar and closed the door to the oven behind Tim. He was trapped; flames licking at his flesh and the monster that had looked him in there was laughing from the other side of the iron door. Panic rose in Tim and he started to kick the stone wall at the end of the oven. To his relief it gave in and he climbed is way into temporary safety. The cold air was mercy to his skin and shaking he sank down the wall as far away from the fire as possible. He felt like crying. He was in the superhero business for seven years now, got tortured and beaten and nearly killed, but right now he wanted nothing more than to curl up in to a crying ball and wait for Bruce to save him. How embarrassing. Jason would raiser die then to let Bruce save him. On the other hand, Jason would probably shot his way out of this.  
Seriously, he hadn’t had time for self-pity.  
“No! No! You are mine!” the butcher screamed in the other room. Tim stood up, shook some ash from his cloth and looked back in the oven.  
“No one owns me!” he said serious and then left.  
Tim would love to say that nothing more special happened, but not only one minute later some poor guy fall down from a giant shaft that ended open to the sky. The smell of fresh air was just too tempting to ignore and the view at the night sky that Tim loved so much screamed freedom. A little climbing act later he found the last part of the way to freedom blocked, not that the shaft was an actual option, except there was a giant ladder to the ground, which he doubted. Tim was just too used to the wings of his Red Robin costume. Good thing he found another air vent, that lend him to a new corridor, bad thing he was no total confused to where he was, so the memorized blueprints were useless. Worst thing he could hear the fucking saw again, as if this guy just magically appeared wherever Tim was.  
“Feed me!” echoed through the halls and Tim wasn’t so thrilled to do so. A lot of bad people had tried to do some horrible things to him, but no one ever tried to eat him.  
To say Tim had enough of this fucker was an underestimation. The moment this turd came around the corner Tim run exactly at him. First the butcher was surprised, than a wide smile appeared on his face, when he realized his food was coming to him. But the second before his body meet the saw, Tim jumped, pushing off the wall to his right with on food, making a somersault de Grayson over the head of his new most hated person in the multivers and ran until he couldn’t hear the butcher curse anymore.  
Haphazardly he walked through the facility until he found another sealed lock, the only different was that this time the gas, meant to disinfect, streamed in freely and the man in side was choking.  
“Help” he groaned and even when Tim knew that he wouldn’t find the off button in time, he at least had to try. He sprinted through the corridor past a man, who banged his head continuous at a door and down to nurse station.  
And then he heard something he had prayed to hear never again. A saw. For fucking sake, was this guy everywhere.  
“Feed me!” the butcher screamed and Tim had to swallow the urge to scream. He just wished Jason was here so he can put a freaking bullet in his bloody head. Tim grabbed the next thing, a metallic chair, and went to find the butcher. When he had finally found him he walked slowly in his direction. The Butcher instead run towards Tim leak the crazy maniac he was. His mistake. When he was close enough Tim let himself fall to the floor to dough the saw and kicked the butcher’s left knee. A loud crack was audible, followed by a bloodcurdling scream, which was music in Tim’s ears. The butcher fell down and Tim started to smash the chair at the body below him. Again and again, letting all his frustration and anger out on this person. When he felt better he checked his pulse. Yep, hearts beating and still breathing, he hadn’t broken rule number one. Tim sent another kick to the torso of the unconscious man, then snatched his saw and throw it out of the next window.  
“Fare to hell” was his goodbye while he left to find a way to stop the gas in the lock. He was a lot more at easy and less stressed. He shout beat people with chairs more often, maybe Damien wanted to volunteer.  
Behind the next corner Tim meet a guard, bloody, but very much alive.  
“Hey, you’re alright?” Tim asked carefully. The man didn’t even look up from his curled up position.  
“Fuck of, this is my hideout” the guard jelled, his voice muffled thanks to his arm.  
“Ok, than you just wait here and I come later back with help” Tim offered restraining some names he would love to call him. This whole situation was the fault of the fucked up company he was working for. But ok, let the teen find a way out of this while the grown up and trained man hid like a coward. Not that Tim wasn’t trained much better than any security guard, but that something the guy couldn’t know.  
A ten minutes walk later Tim finally found the out button, only that it wasn’t a button, it was a wheel, but who cares, the gas was out. He let himself fall on the computer chair in the small room and started to massage his bare feet. They hurt like hell and he was sure that he had walked over some glass shards while running for his live. He wished he could bond them or do something else to protect the wounds from getting infected. Losing his position as Red Robin because he lost is feet thanks to an infection wasn’t that high on his to do list, but as the things were, his feet just had to wait. Priorities. Going back to the lock was easy, now that he knew the way. He ignored the sobbing guard and then went through the lock. The man inside was already dead, the list just grew longer, but Tim kept remained himself that there was nothing he could have done.  
And then finally he smelled open air and saw the night sky above his head. For a millisecond he thought he made it, but then he realized he just had found the patio. The fog was too thick to see and the camera was useless as well. He had an odd feeling about this yard, but he had an odd feeling inside the building as well. How long has it been sins he had sent his SOS? It was hard to tell, seeing that he wasn’t concussion all the time. Was Batman already here? Was he even on his way? Of course he was, Nightwing, Batgirl and Balckbat probably as well. Hopefully they came soon, Tim was seriously in need of a coffee.  
He followed a stone path through the yard and he didn’t thought it was possible, but he started to get used to the death around him, that, or he was just tiered. A staircase lead him to an abounded basketball court were some maniac played basketball with a freaking head. Just usual stuff in the freak show that was the life of Tim Drake. And he still needed to find the radio to contacted Oracle.  
A few dead bodies later Tim realized he didn’t even smell the death anymore. He continued walking. It turned out that the yard was as confusing as the facility itself, how a human being was supposed to navigate through this building was a mystery to Tim. When he finally thought he was alone again, he started hearing whispering voices.  
“He looks nervous!”  
“I want to kill him!”  
“So do I!”  
Seriously, this night was more terrible as every terrible thing that happened to a normal person in their entry life combined. But he wasn’t a normal person, he was a bat and destiny just loves to fuck witch his caped crusaders. Luckily they were separated by a chain fence. Not really wanting to meet them in person he started climbing the ladder to an empty watchtower which was connected to others. He couldn’t see anything from up here, thanks to the fog, but he could hear the screams and bagging for help. He bits his lip and continued his search for the radio station.  
On the highest reachable point Tim entered through a door. He wasn’t sure if he should be happy to be back inside or not. After seeing the massacre that had took place in this hall he wasn’t. But at the end of the corridor he finally found the radio station. The room was felt with security monitors that showed live streams from the entry facility and thank god, no one was here. With experienced fingers Tim found the right frequency.  
“Oracle, here’s R…” he started but someone snapped the entry control out of his hand and an elbow connected with his head. Tim fell to the floor and saw how Mr. Blaire destroyed the radio with a truncheon. Barbara’s worried voice died and with it most of Tim’s hope. The next thing that connected with the truncheon was Tim’s head. Dark spots appeared in his view while Mr. Blaire kneeled above him and tried to choke him.  
“Mr. Park, you couldn’t just …, couldn’t just keep your mouth shut. Couldn’t just play along. You talked enough now” the black haired man on top of Tim cursed. But Tim wasn’t beaten jet. His free leg found his way to Mr. Blaire’s chest and the man fell of him. Tim gathered up and was about to kick the other man, when a rough voice whispered some hardly understandable words. Mr. Blaire’s eyes widen in panic and he stumbled out of the room as fast as possible.  
“Do me a favor and die here” he jelled and left. Tim wasn’t going to give him that. Sadly the man behind the next door had other plans. It was a giant and incredibly fat man, probably some lost brother of Suzie Sue, who had metal chains and started to hunt Tim. At least he hadn’t had a saw. Again Tim’s speed and agility saved him. But now he was complete lost, clueless on what to do next, without a way to contacted Bruce, bloody and beaten and tiered and hungry. He just wanted to go home, lie in his oversized bed and drink Alfred’s hot chocolate.  
“Emergency evacuation is in progress, please leave through the administrative block. Thanks for your cooperation” a female voice announced via speaker and a smile appeared on Tim’s face. Administrative block, here he was coming.  
On his way there he found two men, locked in a cell.  
“I’m not the sick one. You lying motherfucker” one of them screamed and Tim was kind of glad they were locked in there.  
And joy, fatty was back. On his way to escape he climbed out of a window. He actually wished to be back inside when he started hearing the Joker laugh. But the crime clown couldn’t be here, he was in Arkahm. Maybe Tim was losing his mind.  
Carefully he crossed the small yard. He could barely saw something, not even with the camera, and his sore feet hurt on the uneven ground. The only way out was a stairway down in the basement, which sounded like a terrible idea, but what could he do about it. Thankfully it didn’t take long until he could leave the basement again. The lawn he now stood on was fenced in a high voltage bar and Tim needed to turn out the electricity when he wanted to walk through. The other way out was another cellar, yeah. He went past some bodies and a guy who actually got off on them.  
“Just look at the other direction, Tim, just find the fuse and you’ll be out of here” he whispered to himself. On the end of the cellar he found the fuse. He turned the lever and was out of there in a second.  
And fuck, someone had turned the electricity back on. Again Tim could hear the Joker laugh. He was imaging this; this was just in his head. The Joker wasn’t here. He suddenly remembered the time when he nearly lost his mind and tried to kill Batman because of the Joker. Tim laid his arms around him and just tried to breathe regular. A panic attack wouldn’t help him right now. God damn, he was a Bat; he was going back down there, cut the electricity again and kick everyone who was trying to stop him in the ass.  
This time now one alive was done there. A goose bump was formed on Tim’s forearm and he knew something was going south. Someone was behind him, Tim could feel his glare on his back. He turned the lever and jumped around. He was so sick of running away. The guy was unarmed and not really threatening so Tim just punched him in the face. The man fell down like a sack potatoes and Tim stepped cold over his unconscious form back to the high voltage fence. Behind the fence was another building which he entered. The facility was bigger than Tim had thought. The chances that Bruce would find him in this place were not so high.  
Tim opened a door and the moment it closed behind him someone locked it from the other side. A voice, that sounded disturbingly like Harley Quinn laughed: “A lamp for Gluskin!”  
Gluskin? Wasn’t that the guy that was looked in the machine earlier this day? It felt like that was ages ago.  
The open room he was in looked like a rotten sewing room. Why the hell was a place like this in an Asylum? And then some music started, it was a happy song about marring, but in a place like this it send shivers down Tim’s spine. Behind a cortege was one of the most gruesome things he had seen this day. A castrated, naked man lied dead on a table, legs spread and a head between them. Next to him hang a headless body, hands bound together with the left hand of the man on the table. It looked like some fucked up version of giving birth. Tim turned around and hold a hand over his mouth. He couldn’t hold it back and vomited the second time this day. This …, this was… He didn’t even had words for it. Not even Zazs, who liked to arrange his victims, did something like that.  
What had Tim done in his live to deserve to be in a place like this? He had dedicated his live to safe other, he had been a good son, even if his parents hadn’t deserve it, most of the time he was a good friend as well. All in all Tim thought of himself as a good person, how did he ended in hell.  
Tim took a few second to breath. He was going to have nightmares about this place, that, if he was going to survive. God, Bruce where are you. Without looking at the fucked up stature again Tim moved on. He tried to open a door with windows inside, when out of nowhere a man appeared on the other side. He looked like a live sized doll, face half rotten and a smile on his lips that would put the Joker to shame. His wide eyes were fixed on Tim.  
“Hello Darling” he said, then he turned around and Tim had the feeling he was looking for a way inside. This was probably the man that had arranged the bodies like this. Tim could hear a door open and man, sometimes he hated being right.  
“Did I scare you?” the man asked and Tim immediately hid behind a pillar. Steadying his breath he listened to the other man’s steps. Tim was too hungry, too thirsty, too tired, too bloody and too beaten to put on a good fight. He just wants to get out of here without meeting this psycho in person.  
“You don’t have to be alone. I can fill your emptiness” he offered. Thanks, but no thanks. The voice seemed to move away, so Tim sneaked to the door, the man had entered through. Behind it were dresses and paintings of woman, but Tim ignored them, he just run.  
The voice came closer again, now singing the song that was played earlier. The guy saw him and started to jell for him to stop, but hell would Tim do. His only way of escape was an elevator shaft. He jumped in and griped the ladder on the opposite wall, but it was rusty and the rung that was holding him broke. Tim fell and slammed at the elevator. His right foot hit through the wooden roof.  
“Fuuuck” Tim screamed as pain climbed up his leg. A giant splinter was sticking out of his ankle. As if walking wasn’t already painful enough. He took a deep breath and junked it out. A whimper escaped his lips but he could bit down another scream. Blood drenched the leg of his pants and limping Tim climbed out of the shaft. He was no on level below this freak, but the elevator was already traveling up to bring him down to Tim.  
“Would you rather die than be with me?” the man asked shocked and heartbroken, but yes, Tim would rather die, nice talk.  
“You can’t run away from me” was the last thing Tim could hear from him and he was right, he couldn’t run with his ankle like this. He limped through the hall, searching for a place to hide. He found it in form of an old locker. Holding his breath he waited for the man to move on, but he didn’t. Instead he found Tim and did something with the locker. Tim couldn’t open the door, he was locked. The locker was thrown down and dragged away. Tim was banging at the iron door, but he couldn’t get free, while the psycho that had captured him was holding his monolog.  
“I want to say sorry, for the rude things I said. It’s just…, you know how a man can be when he wants this special women” he explained and Tim brook out in cold sweet.  
“I`m not a woman” he jelled and continued to bang against his prison.  
“For now. I want a family, a legacy, to be the father I never had” the man answered. This was…, this was it. Tim was going to end lick the men he had seen before. This was not how he should die. He should die in Gotham on the street, saving innocents.  
The look was brought back in his normal position and Tim hit his head at the door, duo the sudden movement. Through a small slot Tim could see a bloody desk and some separated extremities. Than the man hold a tube through the slot and gas field Tim’s prison. He started to cough, trying to stay awake, but darkness took over him.

12 hours later. 

When Tim woke up again he was still locked. A man was strapped on the desk in the center of the room. The sound of sharpened knifes filled the sick silence and his capturer started to speak: “Darling, I need you to try to bleed as less as possible.”  
He raised the knife and Tim closed his eyes. The screaming was bloodcurdling and Tim whimpered, holding his hands over his ears.  
“What the fuck” a familiar voice jelled and the bang of a gun was audible. The psycho fell down and Jason entered Tim’s field of view. Red Hood stood over the man he had just killed, shrugged with his shoulders and shots one, two, three more bullets in the body.  
The aftermath of the gas still in his bones time start to bang weak against the iron door.  
“Jason” he grunted and his big brother turned around and sprinted to the locker. He nearly ripped the door out and Tim fall out, only caught by Jason’s strong arms.  
“Tim? Thank god. We’re searching for you for hours now. You’re alright?” his brother asked and took of his hood. Tim started to nod, but it turned in to a head shaking. His head rested on Jason’s chest, his eyes closed. He was safe now. Jason was here. Jason had guns. Tim was safe. They had found him.  
“Guys, I’ve found Tim. We are heading out now” Tim heard Jason say, probably to the communicator in his ear.  
“Do you need something?” Jason asked Tim now.  
“Water” was all Tim could get out and Jason nodded. He took a small bottle water out of his utility belt and Tim emptied it immediately.  
“Better” Jason asked, the smile on his face audible.  
“Better” Tim confirmed, still leaning against his brother.  
“How long sins I sent SOS?” Tim asked. He had to know for how long he had been in this hell.  
“Sixteen hours. You really scared us there Timyboy” Jason said.  
“Can I borrow your gun for a second?” Tim asked and after a second of hesitation Jason gave it to him. Tim fired two more bullets in the body of the guy who planned to castrate him. Satisfied he gave Jason his gun back.  
“Don’t tell Bruce” Tim demanded and started to limp away.  
“My lips are sealed, Baby bird” Jason laughed and followed him, his hood back over his head.  
“What’s wrong with your food?” the older boy asked worried.  
“A giant splinter. Just let us get out of here so I can rep it” Tim answered and accepted the help Jason offered to him.  
“Can you give me the camera?” Tim asked and pointed at the device on a small table. Thank god it was undamaged.  
“For what?” Jason wanted to know while reaching for it.  
“For Bruce” Tim explained which was obvious the wrong thing to say.  
“Sure, because daddy Bats and the mission are more important than your life.”  
“Chill, I also was in need of a night vision so it came in handy” Tim calmed him.  
A while they walked next to each other in silence, until Jason brooks it.  
“This place is even crazier than Arkahm” he commended.  
“You have no clue. There was a guy with a saw, who followed me for an hour, shouting feet me. I may have interrupted his cannibalistic feast so he tried to eat me as well. Then there was this guy you just shot, who thought that when he cut of some guys junk the guy would magically transform into a woman and he got to make children with him. Thanks for the save by the way. And there is some shadow-monster-thing just flying around killing people” Tim summed up his day.  
“Some shadow what?” Jason asked while the pair entered a kitchen.  
“They called it project Walrider. No clue what it is but it’s free and murderous” Tim explained.  
“Fuck, the door’s looked! It’ barricaded from the other side” Jason cursed and throw himself at the door in front of them.  
“I could climb through the vent and open it from the other side” Tim suggested and pointed at the vent access next to them.  
“You sure?” Jason asked worried and Tim rolled his eyes.  
“I’m going to survive two more minutes on my own after doing so for sixteen hours” he explained. Jason wasn’t so thrilled to leave Tim alone again, but it was the only option. He helped Tim inside the vent and waited.  
“Shit” Tim cursed under his breath but Jason had heard it.  
“What? You’re ok?” he asked anxious.  
“Yeah, there’s just another body up here. I don’t even want to know how this guy got up here” Tim answered.  
“Just don’t die up there as well, or I’ll shot you” Jason warned him. On the other side of the vent he landed in an old gym. It just didn’t looked like it had been used as one in a while or was going to be used as one any time soon. The floor was ripped out and bloody parts of human bodies lying around, but the worst part was the ceiling. At least fifty dead men hang from there and it disturbingly reminded Tim of the bats in the batcave. He was never going to look at them in the same way. Every body was crippled like the other victims of the psycho Jason had saved Tim from. How could this man had killed so many people in such a short time? And more disturbingly, if Jason wouldn’t have come in time, would Tim be hanging up here right now as well.  
A gagging sound pulled Tim out of his traumatizing thoughts. On the other side of the gym stood a figure dressed in black and blue and vomited. It was wired and maybe a little bit wrong that it made Tim feel better to see Nightwing like this, but when the first Robin reacted like this, then it was ok that Tim reacted the same way.  
“Dick!” Tim jelled and limbed over to his oldest brother, carefully avoiding walking under one of the bodies.  
“Baby bird” the older man screamed and sprinted at his side, pulling him in a close hug. Normally he would ruffle against his brother’s affection, but right now he was just too happy to be able to see him again.  
“Hello, would someone let me in” Jason jelled from the other side of the blocked door.  
“What’s the magic word?” Dick asked out of habit.  
“Fuck you!” was Jason’s answer.  
“Close enough” Dick said and went to let Jason in.  
“What the hell?” Jason asked shocked when he entered the gym. His eyes opened wide when he saw the bodies at the ceiling.  
“We should cut them down” Dick pointed out, refusing to look up.  
“No, let’s just leave this place. Timbo needs a doctor. But we could make the person who did this pay” Jason suggested.  
“He already had. Remember the guy you shot?” Tim asked.  
“You mean the guy I shoot and then you shoot him as well?” Jason corrected him.  
“What?” Dick looked shocked at Tim, who in turn looked angry at Jason.  
“What, you asked me not to tell Bruce” Jason defended himself.  
“He was already dead and he plant to do the same thing to me” Tim explained, pointing at the ceiling and Dick looked as if he wanted to vomit again.  
“Why are you even here? The exit is in the direction you coming from” Dick said.  
“Oh, seriously? This place is a fucking labyrinth” Jason replies. The three turned to go, just to run in someone when they reentered the kitchen. Four of the five people screamed in shock, funny thing, Jason was the loudest. The only one who didn’t even flinched was Cassandra.  
“Of course we would find Stephanie in the kitchen” Jason commanded.  
“Tiiiiiiiiiiim” the blonde heroine screamed and nearly crushed him with her hug. Her hair was everywhere in his face, but he actually enjoyed it. After Steph was ready Cass gave him a short, but warm hug as well.  
“Tim, you look terrible, let’s go home” Batgirl said and moved in the direction the boys came from.  
“You are lost, right?” Dick supposed with a soft smile on his face.  
“Noooo, I know exactly which way” Stephanie lied, but Blackbat’s snicker betrayed her. The black haired assassin pointed in the opposite direction and Batgirls jaw dropped.  
“You knew which way and still let me pick the wrong one” she ranted angry, her arms crossed in front of her. Cassandra snickered again and started to sign.  
“It was funny watching you run in circles” she explained.  
“Why do I even have enemies when this girl is my best friend?” the only female ex-Robin asked.  
“You don’t have enemies” Jason teased her, then walked past her, his arm under Tim’s shoulder to keep as much weight from his injured foot as possible. The five walked in nearly silence, only Batgirl and Nightwing weren’t capable of shutting up, but Tim was thankful for it, he had missed them all, even the little Demon.  
“I have seen enough of this shit for a lifetime!” an unfamiliar voice in front of them said and all the bats hide in the shadow. Three mercenaries walked past them, discussing the best way to clean the facility.  
“Great, a private army was just what we needed” Jason cursed when the soldiers were out of earshot.  
“Murcoff let them clean their mistakes away” Dick determined the same moment, when the shooting somewhere behind them began. Nightwing, Blackbat and Batgirl sprinted in the direction to safe whoever they could. Tim and Jason waited for them to get back and together they made their way through the administrative block. In the distance screams reached them and again Tim’s siblings were going to help but he stopped them. That wasn’t the sound of people dying via gun shots. This was the walrider.  
“Don’t go there. Please, don’t go there” he begged them.  
“But we can help them” Dick tried to convince him, while the screaming grew even louder.  
”No you can’t help. Listen, we can’t fight that thing” Tim explained and the nervousness in his voice convinced them.  
“Ok, let’s find Bruce and hear what he has to say about it” Dick ordered and Jason snorted.  
They made their way to the exit through some offices and to the entrance hall. A small moan was audible and sometimes Tim loved karma. Near the exit sat an injured Mr. Blaire.  
“Mr. Park, how the fuck are you still alive?... Let’s make a deal. You help me and I help you” the bleeding man suggested.  
“Who’s that?” Stephanie asked feeling the discus radiating from her ex-boyfriend and copying it in her voice.  
“That is the pig that locked me away, tried to experiment on me, destroyed the advice I was using to contact Oracle and runs this fucking place. Everything that happened is his fault” Tim explained and he could hear the safety of Red Hoods gun went off.  
“Oracle?” Mr. Blaire asked confused, than his eyes meet the four Batkids behind Tim. His brain connected one and one and his jaw dropped.  
“You’re…” he started but Tim wouldn’t let him finish.  
“Working for Batman? Kind of, yes” Tim said, giving a shit about secret identities. He was pissed, really really pissed.  
“You’re one of the good guys. You can’t let me die here” he bagged and Tim stepped closer.  
“You’re right. I’m one of the good guys and that’s way I’m going to help you, but I’ll also make sure that you’ll never be a free man again” Tim replied but he had underestimated Blaire. Ignoring his injuries the man jumped up and holding a knife in front of Tim’s stomach. But before he could stab Tim a Batarang connected itself with Blaire’s hand and the knife flew to the ground. A painful groan escaped Blaire when Batman stepped in front of him.  
“Did you just try to stab my son?” Batman asked in a tone that even the most fearless criminal feared. Robin stood behind him, a sinister smile on his face that was actually not directed at Tim.  
Tim was so relieved, his entry family was here to safe him.  
“Can I shot him?” Jason asked and got three annoyed nos from his companions.  
Suddenly a black shadow appeared out of nowhere and throw Blaire in the air where he ripped him in pieces. Batman throw his cap over Robin when the blood and organs stared to fall down at them, but the rest of them were covert in it.  
“What the fuck was that?” Jason’s voice, muffled through his helm asked shocked.  
“The Walrieder, the shadow-monster-think I seriously don’t want to meet again. Can we go now?” Tim stuttered nervous.  
“I think I’m going to vomit” Stephanie throw in and Dick started to rub circles on her back. 

Batman saw down at his children, six wide eyes looked to him, well five, but Bruce was sure that under Jason’s hood he had the same look his siblings had. Tim looked like had been through hell. He was bloody, pall, dirty and he was leaning against Jason as if he couldn’t even stand on his own anymore. He was wearing the same stuff the inmates wear and his right food was swollen.  
This was his fault. He had sent him in hear without enough information. Bruce had two options. He could stay and do something about this Walrider, but risk his children, or he could bring them home, but risking that this thing escaped. A second look to Tim and he decided for the later. Maybe he could come back with the Justice league later, but now they were hiding home.  
“I’ll carry you” he demanded to Tim, who looked like he was about to lose concussion.  
“I can walk” Tim tried but Bruce shook his head: “That wasn’t an offer!”  
Outside the facility the sun had already risen and the Batmobile was a strange picture in bright daylight. The moment Tim had closed his eyes he was out cold. Bruce smile when he lied him down at the back seat of the Batmoblie. Cassandra sat next to him, his head on her lap and she started to pet it like she would do with a dog. Tim lend into the touch and he looked so much younger at this moment. It dawn Bruce that he was actually this young. Nineteen was nothing. He shouldn’t have asked this from Tim. Then he finally realized that Tim was clutching a camera at his chest. Carefully he took it to look through it later. On shotgun Damien was already sitting, his legs crossed and failing to hide his worried glares at the bag seat. Whatever Tim and Damien say, Bruce knew they cared for each other.  
Dick, Jason and Stephanie were already on their way back to Gotham on their motorcycles, so Bruce turned the Batmoblie on. He turned around and stepped on the gas. He thought he had seen a shadow in the front mirror but he was too fast to make something out. 

 

An anonym led and a disturbing video in the internet let to the shutdown of all Murcoff facilities.


End file.
